


Spin Cycle

by sonofnjobu



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Fluff, Laundromat, Sensory Memory, Young Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 06:29:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18424794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofnjobu/pseuds/sonofnjobu
Summary: Erik has very few memories of his parents actually together, and prefers not to remember them. But what can you do when a sensory memory trips something you’d forgotten about?





	Spin Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my work, please comment!
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr at sonofnjobu.tumblr.com

“Bruh…” Erik huffed, rolling his eyes at the crudely handwritten “Out of Order” sign on the washing machine. He shifted the canvas laundry bag to his other shoulder as he inspected the machine.

He hated coming to the apartment basement, but he’d be dammed if he went to a public laundromat. Maybe he could fix it.

He leaned down to take a closer look and came in direct contact with a spider web.

“Aight, you know what!” Erik started, slapping the silky strands away from his face. “Fuck this.”

It was late on a Sunday afternoon, and if he wanted anything to wear come his 8:00 Monday morning meeting, he’d just have to suck it up and go to the laundromat. Once wouldn’t kill him.

Erik gathered up his bag, detergent, and cup of quarters and headed back up the stairs. He’d remembered seeing a laundromat down the street. He could easily walk there. And who knows? Maybe the larger drums would allow him to finish the daunting task of laundry even faster than sharing with all of the people in his “luxury” apartment complex.

Erik sauntered up to the building, but slowed as he came to the door. It had been years since he’d been to a place like this and he suddenly felt a trepidation he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He pushed the feeling down, like many before it, and pulled open the door.

The feeling immediately came right back to the surface. It was the smell of the place. A sensory memory he hadn’t experienced in years. A smell he’d forgotten.

The laundromat smelled like his parents.

Both of them. Together.

Even when Erik tried really hard, he could never remember his mother and father together. Childhood memories are rarely cohesive and stitched together. They pop in and out, here and there with stark clarity but blurry bookends. Erik wouldn’t be able to walk someone through a typical day, but he could tell you about the Winnie the Pooh Birthday cake he had on his third birthday… or how it felt to dump out the water in the playground tire swing after it rained.

It was this specific mix of off-brand detergent and dryers that run a little too hot that brought his parents’ smiling faces to his mind.

Erik’s mother was so beautiful.

Her hair was always up on laundry day – either braided back or up in a bun. She wore an oversized, bleach stained sweathshirt and no makeup. Her brown skin glowed on its own. He remembered the day when he was no longer small enough to be held on the side of her hip and was unceremoniously replaced by a hamper. He’d made a fuss but his father put a stop to that right away.

—

“Eh!” N’Jobu warned him curtly. “Five-year-old boys are too old to disrespect their mothers.”

Erik sucked his lower lip back in from the pronounced pout he’d put on just a moment before. His mother made her way to the counter to exchange a ten dollar bill for quarters, greeting the other regulars as she walked. His father began to sort the darks from the reds and the whites.

Erik stuck his head inside of a front loading washing machine.

“Hello!!!!!!!” he shouted.

He moved to the next open washer and greeted it the same way – all the way down the line.

“He – ah!” Erik screamed as N’Jobu snatched him up.

“Shall I put you in one of these? Pick the spin cycle so you can feel how crazy you make me in the head?” N’Jobu laughed as he shook his son lightly. “Or should we put clothes in instead?”

“Clothes!” Erik agreed. N’Jobu carried him back to their laundry pile and handed Erik one of his t-shirts.

“Throw it in, real hard like this.” N’Jobu chucked some socks in to the machine. One slipped and fell to the floor.

“Rah!” Erik exclaimed as he threw the shirt. Soon the father and son duo were racing to throw their clothes in to the machine. Mom returned just in time to see Erik sink his very last pair of shorts.

She fed the machine the quarters and it whirred to life. She, Erik, and his father sat down on the curved plastic chairs to wait twenty-four minutes exactly.

“Oh no!” mom exclaimed.

“What?” Erik asked. He was ready to throw more clothes if he had to.

“It seems I have one quarter left over. Whatever am I going to do with it?”

Erik’s eyes darted over to the gum ball machine which was conveniently at kids’ eye level, and also conveniently only cost a quarter. They were super big ones too.

His mother didn’t taunt him too much longer, instead covertly slipping him the quarter. His father didn’t like processed sugar. He hadn’t grown up eating it and constantly told Erik to avoid the stuff and brush his teeth to happy birthday even though it wasn’t his birthday.

Erik ran over the bright red machine, plopping easily down on to his knees. He pushed the coveted coin in to the slot and used both of his tiny hands to turn the knob. Erik felt it give slightly and saw the small covering pop out a little. He lifted the plate, and a giant gum ball rolled in to his open palm.

It was a blue one! His favorite color!

Erik popped it in to his mouth and began chewing away. He didn’t know how to blow bubbles yet, but that was okay, his mom said. She would teach him later.

He chewed relentlessly at in during the entire washing cycle. It no longer had any taste, and was a blob of grey rubber cement when he finally spat it out.

The rest of the laundry day was a blur and he spent most of it swinging his legs from the too high waiting chair. Watching his sneakers disappear and reappear beneath him… his parents chatting about something or other. He suddenly heard his name.

“Did you let Erik have gum, babe?” N’Jobu asked. “He’s going to rot his teeth.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” his mother insisted, winking at him behind his father’s back. Erik smiled, revealing a row of bright blue teeth, lips, and tongue.

“The proof! You’re caught blue handed, you two!”

Both of his parents broke in to a smile.

\--

It’s the only clear memory he had of the two of them. They’d seemed like giants at the time… untouchable.

And now they were both gone.

Erik shook off the memory and loaded his clothes in to the machine all at once. He didn’t separate his colors. He mostly wore black anyways. He just wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. He dumped in the detergent and pushed his quarters in. With a loud thunk, the machine began to work.

Erik plopped down on a plastic waiting chair. He set a timer on his phone and went to put his own empty quarter cup in to the laundry bag for safe keeping. As he picked it up, he felt something slide around in the bottom of the container.

There was one quarter left.

He eyed it momentarily. There’s no way there’d be a gum ball machine here.

He took a lap around the aisles and passed the dryers. He was almost back to where he started when he found it. He had to squat down at his knees to reach it now.

He slid the quarter carefully in to the slot and turned the knob, only needing one hand this time. He held his hand out under the ramp and a bright blue gumball rolled out.

His favorite color.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

He popped the candy in to his mouth and began to chew. It got harder to do so as the edges of his mouth curled up in a smile.

He decided he’d come back here every laundry day.


End file.
